


One Whole

by Higgies230



Series: One Whole [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-01-30 00:49:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12642759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgies230/pseuds/Higgies230
Summary: The sequel to Risen.Ygritte is alive, meeting Sansa and partaking in the Battle of  Bastards and becoming a part of Winterfell.





	1. Together

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation requested by a few people so thank you for that, I have enjoyed continuing this story.

They couldn't get enough of each other, it was like the days that followed their first time in the cave. Even when their bond had grown to its strongest point before, even when the ghosts of feelings had started to seep through their connection, it had never been as strong as it was then.

Jon's breath crystallized in the air as he huffed and panted, his body ached beautifully. They rolled apart and pulled their clothes back into place and he could feel  _everything_. He could feel her heart beating faster, still fighting off the pleasure from the sex, he could feel it like it was beating in his own chest alongside his own heart. He could feel her happiness and joy, contented and full of love. Her emotions had become a part of him, it was something stronger than anything that had been recorded since a hundred years before the birth of the seven kingdoms. No longer just the ghost of something. It was so strong it was almost a physical thing.

"Remember what you said to me once?" Jon breathed as Ygritte drew him into her arms. He drew a gentle hand through her fiery hair and studied her face as if taking it in for the first time all over.

"You know nothing?" she smirked.

A smile pulled at his lips and he had never felt happier. She was there, the fur of her clothes creasing around his gloved hands, her breath was warm against his cheek and ear and her chest rose and fell against his own. She was so real, so so real. She was there with him, part of him. He felt whole, no longer an empty, broken shell. It was almost too good to be true. Yet it was true.

"You are mine and I am yours," he murmured, kissing her like he had wanted to every day since her death. "Remember that? I remember that."

"I remember," she whispered and he was almost shocked to see the tears running down her cheeks even though he could feel how overwhelmed she was through their strengthened bond.

***

They rode together through the gates, through the tunnel and back to Castle Black. Ygritte's arms were wrapped around Jon's waist, her breath hot on his neck and her legs bumping against his as the movement of the horse beneath them jostled them. Heads turned as they passed, free folk and Night's watchmen alike.

As they slid from the horse, Tormund, Ed, Davos, and Melisandre strode towards them through the thin layer of snow. Jon looked to them nervously as a stable boy took the horse away and the two were left facing the four.

Tormund carried on forward after the others stopped, drawing Ygritte to his chest. Jon watched as the two hugged fiercely before Ed came up to him.

"What are we going to do about the traitors then," he asked.

Thorne, Yarwyck, Marsh... Ollie. The two other brothers in black that he was too preoccupied to recognise. He knew what he had to do but the thought was less than savory. The thought of taking Ollie's life, a boy younger than Bran was... he didn't want to do it. He knew he had to though.

Ygritte seemed to get the turmoil inside him, pulling away from her friend and turning to Jon, it must have shown through their bond.

"Erect a gallows. Ser Alliser, Yarwyck, Marsh and Ollie will be hung tomorrow," Jon said in a low voice.

"As you wish Lord Commander," Ed dipped his head before hurrying off to carry out his task.

"Lord Commander?" Ygritte questioned with raised eyebrows.

Jon looked to her, his soulmate, and felt the lightness of reuniting fall away and the heaviness of everything around them return. Once again he felt older than he was, tired and sick of it all. He no longer wanted the Night's Watch, it held no allure anymore. Looking at her then, Jon realised that the vows he took those years ago no longer applied to him. His watch had ended. He had died, he had come back but he had still died.

Taking a deep breath he turned from them all and strode off, away from the noise and chaos of the courtyard. His cloak trailed behind him, the leather of his glove didn't stop the cold from numbing his fingers or making his soulmark tingle.

***

 He was acutely aware of her presence in the crowd, they bond seeming to thrum with the tension building at his end. Jon couldn't look back at her though. This was his last action as Lord Commander but he still didn't want to seem weak.

 Before him stood the three men and the boy with rope around their neck, each looking to him with a different expression. None of them seemed to feel the cold anymore, not with death inches away. Yarwyck and Marsh seemed afraid, Ollie took one look before staring at the ground while Thorne stared smugly right at him.

  "If you have any last words now is the time," Jon said to the four, keeping his voice free from emotion.

"You shouldn't be alive, it's not right," Marsh's voice quaked slightly.

"Neither was killing me," Jon spat back, this time unable to keep the venom from his tone.

He gritted his teeth, concentrating on the biting cold to keep his mind on the task at hand rather than the bitter anger and hurt he felt towards his killers. Through the bond, he felt Ygritte trying to reassure him pushing the warmth of her love towards him. All it did was increase the weight on his heart, the mess of the world that she now had to live in.

Shaking away the feeling Jon moved until he was in front of Yarwyck. The man's lined face was tight with worry, trying too hard to hide the fear behind a calm, quiet and reasonable voice that quickly broke down to near tears.

"My mother's still living at Whiteharbour. Could you write, tell her I died fighting the wildlings?" he begged.

The words brought rage to Jon, he knew that it must show on his face but he did not care. The man before him had murdered him, had betrayed him and the Night's Watch and yet still asked Jon to give him honor.

 Slowly he strode on across the wooden boards to face Ser Alliser, the man that had hated him since he first stepped foot into Castle Black. He looked up at the man and hated himself for still partly respecting the man even as he stood there with the noose around his neck, even as the words "for the Watch" rang in his head.

"I had a choice Lord Commander," Ser Alliser stated," betray you or betray the Night's Watch. You brought an army of wildlings into our lands. An army of murderers and raiders. If I had to do it all over knowing where I'd end up, I'd pray I'd make the right choice again."

"I'm sure you would Ser Alliser," Jon replied, he couldn't argue with that because at the end of the day, what the man did he didn't do out of his hatred of Jon Snow but for the actions of the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. He genuinely believed that Jon had betrayed them all.

"I fought. I lost. Now I rest. But you, Lord Snow, you'll be fighting their battles forever," Ser Alliser finished, looking away and up, striking Jon with how brave he really was.

After a moment, he moved on again until he stood in front of Ollie. It hurt to stand before the boy and he had to take a moment to even look at the boy as his chest constricted with the grief of what he was about to do. He had come to love the lad, taking him under his wing, training him, seeing the fiery strength of his personality and all the potential that came with that. Now he was there, after driving a knife through Jon's heart, the rope around his neck promising to take away all of that potential.

The boy said nothing to him, just glared down with pure anger and hatred shining in his young eyes. He huffed out a breath through his nose, his mouth held tightly shut as if he was afraid to open it. Jon couldn't help the sadness that he felt as he looked up at the boy but as it became obvious that he wasn't going to say anything, he gave a small nod before looking away.

As he walked away, he drew his sword, the rasp of metal ringing through the silent courtyard only to be devoured by the layer of snow that covered every surface. His heart beat faster as he walked up to the rope with Longclaw clasped in his gloved hand and there he hesitated. He felt his resolve falter for a moment before Ygritte pushed against his soul through their bond, wrapping herself around him, comforting, reassuring him.

He swung Longclaw up and then down through the rope, listening to the clatter of barrels behind him then the snap as ropes tightened and finally the gurgling of dying men. He turned to watch as the three men and the boy writhed and twitched until finally they were still and the only sound was the creaking of rope rubbing against wood. The faces of the former men of the Nights Watch were swollen and blue, lips parted as they tried to suck in a last desperate gulp of air.

Jon sheathed his sword again, his heart heavy. He strode over to Ed who stood stiffly with his hands behind his back.

"We should burn the bodies," he stated, not quite looking at Jon.

"You should," Jon told him and then Ed looked at him.

Jon shed his cloak then, handing it solemnly to his friend while focusing on the feeling of Ygritte in the back of his mind.

"What do you want me to do with this?" Jon's friend asked.

"Wear it, burn it, whatever you want. You have Castle Black," Jon told the other, watching Ed's face fall before he strode off.

Swiftly he took off down the wooden steps, not looking back as men of the Nights Watch and free folk alike parted for him.

"My Watch is over."

 


	2. Small Freedom

 Jon felt free now. He was no longer the Lord Commander of the Nights Watch, he was no longer part of the Nights Watch at all. It meant that he was free to be with Ygritte, free to go wherever they wanted and be whoever they wanted. For the first time ever, Jon was grateful to be a bastard, it meant that he could just leave and no one would miss him. Robb, if he still been alive, would never have been able to leave his responsibilities behind but Jon could.

He sat there now, on the cold floor at the end of his bed watching his soulmate. His living breathing soulmate. She sat there in the bath, face relaxed and happy and she washed the hot water over herself. The candlelight danced off of her naked skin giving it an exotic and beautiful glow. Ghost's soft breaths as he slept and the slosh of the bath water were the only sounds in the room and the silence was wonderful.

After a while, Ygritte looked over to where Jon sat, smiling mischievously as she saw him watching her. He smiled back at her, a genuine one if slightly shy remembering how he would have been before, averting his eyes and blushing at the sight of a naked woman. He knew that she must be thinking something along the same lines as she smirked again, rising and stepping from the bath.

Jon didn't move, just tilting his head up as she walked over to him. Her damp hair was dark red against his pale winter skin, her blue eyes the most beautiful gems and her body the most perfect body of any woman to ever walk the earth. The mark on her wrist stood out, the blue seeming to almost glow. When she reached him she just stood there over him until he stood, brushing the wet locks away from her face and kissing her, he reached down and brushed his fingers over her wrist feeling the familliar sparks of warmth. Through their new and strengthened bond, he could feel her love, it was potent and wonderful. 

Later that night, Jon lay awake in bed, the furs around them and Ygritte curled into his side with Ghost asleep across their feet. He was so warm and comfortable, surrounded by two of the most precious things in his life and yet he couldn't help the dull fear in the pit of his stomach. After everything that had happened, after everything in the world that was changing... He couldn't shake the feeling that something would go wrong. 

***

It was only the day later that indeed Jon's fears came true. It was bitter-sweet and he had no idea what he felt. He had never really like his sister, never been close, she had hated him. Yet, when he saw her in the courtyard, a young woman and not the girl he had known, he had gone to her. When he held her he felt overjoyed. She was ragged and dirty from travel but she was alive and he had never been happier to see her.

 Still, he knew that it meant the end of his plans to just disappear but seeing her was seeing part of his family. His father, Robb and Lady Stark were all dead, no one knew where Arya had disappeared to years ago and Bran and Rickon were killed by Theon. Sansa was all the family he had. If she was here then he had to protect her, he couldn't leave her again.

He felt Ygritte's confusion and curiosity as he held his sister close, rocking her gently for a long while. When they broke apart, Jon really took her in. She was taller than he was now and she held herself in a way that spoke of confidence.

"Are you hungry?" He asked her, smiling and leading her gently with a hand on the small of her back when she nodded.

Making their way back up the steps, he brushed past Ygritte, giving her hand a brief, reassuring squeeze. Ed moved out of their way and silence reined through Castle Black.

Once they were settled, Sansa with a bowl of soup and Jon with a horn of ale, Ygritte entered. The heavy wooden door creaked and a gust of cold air and snow swirled in around her causing the siblings to turn to face her.

"You're a wildling," Sansa stated taking in Ygritte's fur clothing.

"Prefer bein' called a free woman actually," Ygritte replied coolly. 

"Jon, who is she?" Sansa asked, turning to her brother with the perfect air of a lady.

"This is Ygritte. She's... well she's my soulmate Sansa and Ygritte, this is my sister Sansa," Jon told them, breathing out shakily as they both stared at him.

"That's impossible Jon, you don't have a soulmark, your an Unmarked," Sansa said in an accusatory tone.

In answer, Jon pulled up the sleeve of his jerkin, showing her the blue flames around his wrist. He looked to Ygritte and she seemed to understand his meaning pulling up her own sleeve to show her own soulmark. The previous Lord Commander of the Nights Watch looked back to his sister, trying to read her face to see what she was thinking. All that was there was surprise and slight disgust.

Of course.

Sansa had always held him in disdain. Of course him having a free woman soulmate would cause her disgust to grow. He glanced back at Ygritte who had a bitter expression twisting her features. Jon sighed and gritted his teeth.

"I'm guessing that you don't approve," Jon stated.

"She's a wildling Jon. I know I just apologised for the way that I was around you when we were children but this... this is the kind of thing that brings the family down Jon," Sansa told him, gesturing angrily at Ygritte.

Jon stared at her, angry beyond belief. He could feel Ygritte's anger too, boiling through their connection even more potent than his own. The bastard stood then and went over to his soulmate as she took a step forward. He gripped her arm and looked back at his sister.

"Our family's dead Sansa. It's just you and me now so don't you dare use our family as an excuse for your disapproval," Jon told her coldly before he turned and left, conscious of Ygritte following behind him.

 


	3. For Family

They didn't say anything to one another even once they were back in their room. Probably because Ygritte could sense his need to be left alone, whether that be through their bond or just because she knew him. Instead, she brushed his hair back and pressed a kiss to his temple before moving over and flopping down on the bed.

Jon could feel her watching him as he moved about, packing the last of his things ready for them to depart. When he really couldn't do anymore, he went over and lay down beside her. Ygritte rolled over so that she was facing him and slowly reached out a hand to cup his stubbled jaw. He smiled at her, letting her know that he loved her by focusing on the feeling, letting it flow through their bond. His soulmate returned the affection and he just closed his eyes, letting the feeling wash over him.

"You don't have to worry about her. You don't have to worry about anything Jon Snow, we can walk away now and leave her. You never mentioned a sister called Sansa so she can't mean that much to you. She's a bitch anyway," Ygritte told him.

He couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him at her last comment, so blunt and so Ygritte. Yet... and yet. He sat up, all mirth forgotten feeling all of a sudden guilty for laughing at all.

"She's still family Ygritte," Jon said, not looking at her.

"You really know nothing," she snorted.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Family doesn't end in blood. You say your family was the Nights Watch, then you left. Now I am all of the family you need. If your sister doesn't see you for the person you are, if she looks at you like your just some piece of shit... well you don't need her and she definitely deserve you."

Jon swallowed and looked down at the furs on the bed. He could see Ygritte's point but he just couldn't agree with it. Yes he loved his soulmate more than anything but Sansa was still his sister and he cared for her even if she thought that he was a stain on the Stark name.

He looked up at the free woman as he felt her move closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. Just as he was beginning to relax into her, there was a knock at the door. It was quiet and tentative which could mean that it could only be Sansa.

Jon turned and pressed a kiss to Ygritte's temple before slipping out of her embrace and off of the bed. Sure enough, he opened the door to see Sansa standing there. She looked uncomfortable and cold, Jon couldn't help but take pity on her. Standing back he gestured for her to enter which she did, bundling up her cloak in her hand to lift it slightly above the ground as she brushed past him.

As he closed the door, Jon looked over to Ygritte only to see that her face was carefully free of any emotion. She just sat there, cross-legged on the bed looking intimidating even to Jon.

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry," Sansa said as she stood in front of the empty hearth. "I'm sorry to both of you, what I said was right out of order. Jon you are my brother and Ygritte you are my brother's soulmate making you my family also. I am a Stark, I need to hold on to whatever family I have left."

Jon looked at her then, registering the sadness in his sister's voice. She was right, he had already seen the value in family. They had lost everyone else. Jon had Ygritte now but Sansa was truly Unmarked, only Arya and Robb ever had the chance of a soulmate- other than himself of course. She needed him more than he needed her.

 _The lone wolf dies but the pack survives_. That was what father had always said. Sansa and him, they were the last of the Stark bloodline, he wasn't even a Stark. They were still family though, they still had to stick together. They had to be part of the pack so that they could live.

"You were right Jon. Our family is dead, it was all my disapproval. You can't choose who your soulmate is going to be, but if Ygritte is your soulmate then she must be a good person because you're a good person. No matter what side of the Wall she was born on," Sansa said, her gaze never wavering from his own.

"It's not just Ygritte who is good Sansa. Just because the free folk were born north of the Wall... it doesn't make them savages or pillagers or rapists. I know the free folk, I helped save them, I respect them. I just want you to know that, to understand that," Jon replied quietly.

"Why have you come?" Ygritte asked bluntly, both of Eddard Stark's children snapping around to look at her.

"I... I need your help Jon," Sansa confessed.

Jon looked to her then, arms folded and a crease forming in his brow. He had feared this might be the case, he'd heard the news of her marriage to Ramsey Bolton and knew that the help that she seeked must be something to do with him.

"We need to get Winterfell back. I know you have an army of wildlings-"

"Free folk," Ygritte cut in.

"Free folk... yes. I... we just need Winterfell back, it's our home," Sansa finished, stuttering through it, especially unsure after Ygritte's interuption.

"Winterfell is lost Sansa. The Boltons have it and yeah, I have some free folk who respect me. That doesn't mean that I can drag them into a war that has nothing to do with them. Anyway, there's only about two thousand of them and not all of them can fight. Ramsey's army is at least three times as large is not even larger still," Jon reeled off.

"Jon, we have to get Winterfell back because that monster has our brother," Sansa told him, her voice was strained and, to his horror, a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Brother?" Jon asked, dumbstruck and confused.

"Rickon. He has Rickon."

"That's impossible, that traitor Theon killed Bran and Rickon," Jon chocked out, the rage at the betrayal threatening to overwhelm him all over again.

"He didn't Jon. Those were two little farm boys that he pretended were Bran and Rickon. Now Ramsey has Rickon and Bran is lost out there somewhere with no one but Hodor and Summer," Sansa told him, crying openly now.

Jon went to her, wrapping her in his arms for the second time that day. He couldn't believe it, couldn't believe that they were alive. He knew that the boil of relief and happiness and anger was bombarding Ygritte through their bond- he could feel her sympathy in return.

As he held his sister, a now strong and independent woman, thinking about his little brothers, he knew that he would have to at least try to save Rickon and take back Winterfell. Ramsey would pay for everything he had done to hurt Jon's family.

 

 

 


	4. Ramsey Bolton

There was no wind but the day was still bitter as they waited. Jon sat atop his mount, the wolf skin that Sansa had given him providing a welcomed warmth. Behind him sat Sansa and Ygritte, Tormund and Ser Davos and Lady Mormont along with a few of their banner men. No one spoke.

Jon still seethed at the memories of all of the lords that had turned him down and, in the back of his mind, he could feel Ygritte's emotions the same.

"You don't have to be here," Jon said to Sansa, turning slightly as he broke the silence.

"Yes I do," was the reply, she sat there so tall and strong. Jon knew of the cruelty of Ramsey Bolton and could only imagine the torment that the man had put his sister through. It was a miracle that she was the strong young woman that she was and not some broken husk.

It was then that he saw them. The horses that came cantering over the frosty crest before Jon's troop. The bastard could make out the leader, whom he assumed to be Bolton, a little ahead of the rest.

The group came to a halt, the man he assumed to be Ramsey smiling somewhat evilly at them from his horse. Behind him, Jon could practically feel Ygritte bristle, more than one horse shifting as their riders tensed up. Malice practically pored from the Bolton making everyone in Jon's party uneasy.

"My beloved wife, I've missed you," Ramsey smiled, even his voice dripped evil.

Ygritte pressed her horse forward then, her anger boiling through the soulmate link. Jon put up a hand to stop her, sending a silent warning through their bond. The wildling halted but the anger didn't stop which confused Jon; Ygritte hated Sansa.

"You have a feisty one there bastard," Ramsey laughed, giving Jon's soulmate a once over with manic eyes.

All Jon did was grit his teeth, sitting silently atop his horse not wanting to rise to the other's jibes. Ramsey snorted at him, cocking his head as the smile spread just a bit further across his face.

"Well then, thank you for returning Lady Bolton safely. Now, dismount and kneel before me, surrender your army and proclaim me the true lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. I will pardon you for deserting the Nights' Watch, I will pardon these treasonous lords for betraying my house. Come bastard, you don't have the men, you don't have the horses and you don't have Winterfell. Why lead those poor souls into slaughter? There's no need for battle. Get off your horse and kneel. I am a man of mercy," Ramsey finished.

"Every one of the free folk is worth ten of your pathetic southern fighters," Ygritte growled.

Ramsey laughed loudly at that and Jon felt his frustration grow. He knew that his soulmate's feelings were influencing and heightening his own but he couldn't help that, his fists tightening around the reins of his steed, leather on leather creaking.

"You're right, there's no need for a battle. Thousands of men don't need to die only one of us. Let's end this the old way; you against me," Jon said to Ramsey, carefully keeping his tone as emotionless as possible.

"I keep hearing stories about you bastard. The way people in the North talk about you you're the greatest swordsman who ever walked. Maybe not. I don't know if I'd beat you but I know that my army will beat yours. I have six thousand men, you have what, half that, not even? Lets face it, most of those are wildling savages," Ramsey replied.

"Aye you have the numbers," Jon said quickly before Ygritte could comment," will your men want to fight for you when they heard you won't fight for them."

Ramsey smiled wider then, waggling his finger at Jon as if he were joking with a friend.

"He's good, very good," the Bolton lord said to the group at large before addressing Jon once more," tell me, will you let your little brother die because you're too proud to surrender."

"How do we know that you even have him?" Sansa cut in for the first time. Jon turned to her slightly before looking back to at Ramsey and his men.

There was a moment where nothing happened and then Ramsey nodded to Lord Karstark who sat on his own horse at the Bolton's side. The Lord reached back and pulled something out of his saddle back, throwing it towards Jon and his party.

The head hit the frosty grass with a dull thud and Jon felt his heart sink. There lay the black head of his brother's wolf, Shaggydog. It was undeniably that direwolf and if the direwolf was dead then there was a high chance that Ramsey really did have Rickon.

Silence reigned as the two parties stared at the head, one in despair and one smugly.Jon could feel Ygritte's sympathy through their bond and, for the first time, it only aggravated him further. He didn't need the sympathy or the pity.

"Now if you want to save-" Ramsey started, self confidence and authority dripping from the words just as Sansa cut across him.

"You're going to die tomorrow Lord Bolton, sleep well," Sansa said coldly before kicking her horse into a canter quickly retreating from the group.

Ygritte snorted, craning her neck to watch Sansa Stark retreat before looking back to Ramsey with an even more smug expression than the Bolton had worn moments before.

"She's a fine woman your sister," Ramsey said to Jon, ignoring Ygritte completely," I look forward to having her back in my bed and you're all fine looking me, my dogs are desperate to meet you. I haven't fed them for seven days, they're ravenous. I wonder which parts they'll try first, your eyes... your balls. As for your wilful wildling whore... well. I'm sure I can teach her manners first. In the morning then bastard," Ramsey said, his calm still fully in effect.

As the other man finished, Ygritte once more went to press on. Jon pulled his horse around and grabbed her arm, weathering her glares as Ramsey chuckled to himself once more before turning and, with his party, retreating away back to Winterfell.


	5. The Night Before

They returned to their camp after their meeting with Ramsey Bolton. The tents of Jon's army were in the same place that the tents of Stannis' army had rested the night before their defeat. Jon just hoped that he and his men would not befall the same fate.

The war counsel that they held after that didn't do much to raise Jon's hopes of victory. Though the bastard was convinced that the fear Ramsey's men held for their lord would help Jon's cause, it didn't change the fact that they were hopelessly outnumbered. As Tormund so helpfully pointed out, Bolton's cavalry automatically gave him the advantage anyway.

"It is crucial that we let them charge at us, they have the numbers, we need the patience," were Ser Davos' words and Jon couldn't help but agree with the much more experienced man.

It was after the meeting however that Jon really thought about how truly lost they were. It was Sansa, who stayed even after Ygritte had left, that stayed and voiced her doubts.

She knew what he did, that the sizes of their armies was a big problem for Jon's side. Then she said aloud what Jon had been trying to ignore; the fact that they would never likely see their brother again. The true heir to Winterfell stood no chance.

The bastard commander stood for a moment, bent over the planning table, after his sister left. He watched the flickering flames of the many candles and felt the black hole of hopelessness grow inside of him. All he knew was that he had to try.

It was that they pulled him away from the table and out of the tent. After his resurrection, despite all the evidence, he felt a considerable lack of faith that there was any god out there. Still, he found that he needed the counsel of the one person who had not been at the war meeting; the lady Melisandre. 

So, Jon strode off through the snow, packed hard by the many feet that had passed over it. Still, his breath fogged in the air and the cold bit at his fingers even through the leather gloves. The walk was not long but it gave him more than enough time to figure out what he wanted to ask.

She was sitting in front a burning grate, hands folded neatly in her lap. She looked around at him but said nothing as he came to stand slightly behind her.

"Any advice?" he asked.

"Don't lose," was the reply.

After a short while of listening to the logs burn and crackle, Jon continued with something that he had been thinking about for a long while," If I do, if I fall, don't bring me back."

At that moment he felt tension and strain through his soulmate bond and he knew that Ygritte must be stood outside the tent listening in. He couldn't help the guilt that flashed through him and through the connection; he hadn't talked to her about this particular wish.

"I'd have to try," Melisandre told him.

"I'm ordering you not to," Jon told her firmly, he had only half expected that response from her and had been hoping more than anything that she would have just excepted his wish.

"I'm not your servant Jon Snow."

"You are in my camp. I'm the commander."

"I serve the Lord of Light. I do what he commands," the lady told Jon calmly.

He looked at her, listening to the crackle of the flames, watching the light dance off of her face. It was strange really, he knew that she seduced men, had tried to seduce him, and that she was beautiful. Yet he had never thought of her in that way, he didn't know if it was because of his bond with Ygritte or not, only that she had no effect on him.

After a long period of silence, he asked, "how do you know what he commands?" 

"I interpret his signs as well as I can. If the Lord didn't want me to bring you back, how did I bring you back? I have no power, only what he gives me and he gave me you," Melisandre explained.

"Why?" was the only thing that Jon could say in reply.

"I don't know," she said plainly," maybe you're only needed for this small part of the plan, nothing else, maybe he brought you here to die again."

"What kind of god would do something like that?" 

"The one we've got."

Jon realised then that coming here had been a mistake. He stared into the flames again and couldn't help but hope that the Lord of Light didn't exist. Yet here he was, alive.

He turned and, without a word, left the tent and the priestess behind.

Leaning against one of the tent's supports was Ygritte, arms folding across the wildling furs and eyes cast down at her boots. Jon stopped and took her in, if his life was worth fighting for it was worth fighting for for her. She looked up at him, her blue eyes cutting into him and he could feel her hurt both through the gaze and through their connection.

The bastard walked over to her and gently ran a hand over her head, brushing away some of the snow that had fallen onto the fiery locks. She didn't pull away and he took that as a good sign.

"Come on," he said, gesturing in the direction of their tent," we need to talk about this."

He turned away from her, his soulmate, and strode off through the lines of tents. The camp was very quiet now, with the moon and stars sat in the sky far above them with only a few sentries seen around.

As they reached the tent, Jon held the flap open and stood back as Ygritte passed him. No sooner had he entered and let the material fall behind him then his soulmate asked, "Why are you so set on dying?"

 

He could feel the hurt that she was feeling and he could see it in her blue eyes and the way she was frowning. Jon wanted so bad to tell her something that would take away the hurt but he didn't think that his reasoning would do that.

"I don't belong here. Neither do you. We both died and yet we are standing here, breathing with blood flowing through our veins," the bastard told her.

"If we are standing here then we are meant to be here Jon Snow. We are alive because of the magic of that foreign witch, we were brought together because of the magic of soulmates. We are afraid because of the magic that allows the white walkers to roam. So really, that is a terrible excuse," Ygritte ranted.

Jon looked at her, searching her face. She was serious, his soulmate knew where she stood and he was going to know it. He couldn't say anything in response.

"You will live tomorrow Jon and I will live and we will continue to live after that," the wildling said, stepping forward and grabbing his jerkin, pulling him to her.

"What happened to 'if we die we die but first we'll live'? Now you seem to be working in reverse," Jon commented, gazing straight into his loved one's eyes.

"We are doing things in reverse Jon Snow. We've already died, we've been given a second chance and I intend to live. Dying is not for me," was the reply.

Ygritte lent in, pressing her lips to Jon's and kissing him fiercely. The bastard returned the kiss, smoothing a hand through wild fiery locks and down over her shoulder to rest in small of her back.

"I promise that I'll try not to die tomorrow, I want more than anything to have a life with you. But if I do... Ygritte I don't want to come back again," Jon said as they pulled apart.

Ygritte didn't say anything just nodded and cupped his face with a calloused hand. He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, with everything bad in the world she was so good.


	6. The Battle

  It was totally silent which odd considering the number of people present. Ygritte was silent too, stood alongside Tormund and Wun Wun at the head of the free folk. They had separated from the southern cavalry, a corridor of clear space running between the groups. In front of the all though were the archers. Ygritte knew that she would normally be with them but today she was going to charge with her soulmate.

  She could feel his emotion in the back of her head where she visualised their bond to be. He was strangely calm considering how wound up he had been last night. To her eternal shame, Ygritte couldn't say that she was feeling the same as Jon, she was scared. The last time she had fought in a battle she had died and she had certainly never fought a southern army with horses. She did know what they had done to Mance's army though, even if she was still dead at that point. 

  At that moment, Jon rode past them on his black steed. Her soulmate took in the sight before him, the stretch of land between them and the Bolton army decorated with flayed people on burning crosses.

   For a long moment there was no movement and then the Bolton bastard appeared in the distance and, judging by the way Jon tensed up, the boy with him was Jon's brother. The slimy bastard raised a knife high as he dismounted his own steed, high enough to make sure that Jon definitely saw it. He did.

   Jon slide hastily off of his horse and stepped forward. Now tension and worry and anger were rolling off of him. When Rickon's bonds were cut and the boy began to run towards them Jon ran back and practically launched himself back onto his horse, pressing it straight into a gallop.

  Ygritte itched to follow him but stayed put gritting her teeth and gripping her bow tight in her hand as the first arrow headed towards the Stark boy. That Ramsey was a sick bastard playing games with her soulmate and if she ever got her hands on him he would get a liberal taste of his own medicine. 

   Jon continued towards his brother, hand outstretched, desperation and fear flowing from his side of the bond getting stronger despite the physical distance growing between them. Two, three arrows buried themselves in the ground next the kid and hell Ygritte was going to bury those arrows in some worthless bastard hide.

  Just as Jon reached the boy, Ygritte saw him fall. Jon pulled the horse up roughly as nothing but shock filled their bond.

  "Don't," Tormund growled beside her but it wasn't pointed at her- it was at Jon.

  "Prepare to charge," the Davos man yelled, pushing his horse to a brisk trot up and down the lines.

 Just at that moment a volley of arrows flew from the Bolton army and Jon galloped. The empty shock was replaced with a burning rage that was strong even though the distance between them at that point shouldn't be projecting any emotion at all.

  "Go, follow your commander!" Davos cried and she didn't need to be told twice.

  Jon hadn't been happy about her insistence on going into the battle with only a bow and arrow so she had a sword and knife at her hip also, her soulmate having made sure that she was a competent wielder of the weapons. She was still going to stick some arrows in people first though.

  The free folk fell behind the cavalry quickly before a second volley of arrows was released from the Bolton army. Ygritte saw Jon's horse get knocked out from under him, pitching him forward to the ground and for a moment her gut clenched in fear. Then he was up, drawing his sword and facing the Bolton cavalry charging straight at him.

  It seemed that they were pitched into chaos before she could blink. She pulled arrows from the ground and from her quiver, each one taking a man down. The she stumbled over the Stark boy's body. Many more arrows had pierced his flesh but the one sticking through his chest from the back was clearly the one that had killed him. She pulled the arrow from the boy just as another volley of arrows rained down, taking out men from both sides. Ygritte put the arrow in her belt and slung her bow across her shoulder and chest before drawing her sword.

  Bodies began to create huge piles, hundreds of dead and dying all around them. At that point she found Jon, grabbing his arm briefly as he swung round to face her. They fought back to back from that point as the archers from their side rushed in to support them.

  Then the rest of the Bolton men came in. They formed a shield wall around their army with a mountain of corpses piled high at their backs. For a moment no one moved, they knew they were in trouble. Then the shield bearers moved forward, just two steps and then spears were trust in killing and wounding the men like fish in a barrel. Then Bolton men began to appear over the top of the pile of bodies, attacking from behind.

  The free folk and southerns started fighting back then. She saw Tormund and others rush at the wall, Wun Wun loomed above them, grabbing men from the wall, ripping them in half or tearing their heads from their shoulders. 

  Ygritte hacked at a Bolton soldier, spinning round to see Tormund fall back injured. For a moment she felt a spike of panic for her friend but the steadiness coming from Jon anchored her. 

  The wall of Bolton men took another two steps forward, letting out a fearsome roar as one, thrusting the pikes forward into the mass of wildlings and northmen. That was when the panic started to spread. It was a visible change in attitude as men fell dead all around them.

 "Fall back!" came the cry from somewhere in the writhing mass of soldiers.

  That did it, there was a mad rush for the mountain of corpses at their backs and suddenly Jon wasn't there anymore. She felt a spike of pain through the bond and panicked, bracing herself against the stampede but still being dragged away from the shield wall by the shear mass of bodies.

  "Jon!" she called out but her voice was lost in the chaos.

  At that moment, she stumbled over him. Or rather her boot caught on the leg of a fallen body and it happened to be him. Ygritte caught herself and looked down to see her soulmate there struggling to get up as man after man pushed him back down in their rush to escape. One of the those passing by ran and fell over her crouched form, kicking her in the ribs as he went and pulling a painful puff of breath from her lips at the same time. 

  She pushed the next guy away, standing and grabbing Jon's hand to pull him up with her. They surged up together, taking in deep breaths as they emerged above the trapped and panicking mass desperately clutching at each other.

  All around them, a battle horn sounded, piercing through the madness and drowning out other sounds for the few moments that it sounded. Then they saw them. The men and horses galloping towards them. Confusion rushed over Ygritte but it was quickly swept away by the intense relief she felt from Jon.

  "What? What is it?" she demanded.

  "Knights of the Veil," was the reply, which didn't help her understand anymore.

  "Who are they?"

  "Allies."

  Ygritte laughed loud in relief at that as the new reinforcements charged through the shield wall, knocking men down as easily as if they were blades of grass. Jon took the opportunity then to climb out of the crush, Ygritte close on his heals. Just as they reached the top of the mountain of corpses, the Ramsey bastard came into their view. 

  The anger and hurt and loss flared up in Jon straight away and Ygritte couldn't stop herself from seeing the body of Jon's little brother lying in the battle field full of arrows. Then she felt the anger for herself.

  Tormund and Wun Wun joined them as they started off across the field towards the bastard. Ramsey saw them just as they set off, turning his horse and galloping off with a sour look on his face- a sense of satisfaction came over the free woman at the thought of the man's fallen army. He had been so sure of himself the day before and now they approached him victorious.

  When they reached Winterfell the gate was closed and bared. The bastard probably thought that his stone walls would keep him safe but they had Wun Wun. The giant made short work of the gate, battering at the thick wood and splintering it even as archers rained arrows down on him. Ygritte looked on with mixed feelings, adrenaline running through her as the rest of their army joined behind and yet she could see the arrows starting to take an effect on the last of the giants. Sure enough, as he crashed through the gate he was only able to stumble a few more steps forward before he fell to his knees.

  The free folk flooded into the courtyard with them ready to fight those that they needed to fight. More arrows were shot but this time more Boltons were falling than anything else. Ygritte herself sheathed the sword that she had still been clutching and started shooting her own arrows. She felt on top of the world with her soulmate at her side until the arrow pierced Wun Wun's eye and the last giant fell dead to the floor. She stood still in shocked silence until the bastard spoke. 

  "You suggested one on one combat didn't you? I've reconsidered," Ramsey addressed her soulmate.

  "As if that'll change your fate you filthy coward. You're no match for Jon Snow," Ygritte spat.

  "Ah yes you've brought the feisty one with you. I can only suppose that she is the dominant one in your relationship bastard," Ramsey once again spoke to Jon.

  Jon didn't say anything but Ygritte wouldn't have had to be his soulmate to feel the anger rolling off of him as he strode forward. Ramsey raised his drawn bow and Ygritte started forward before Jon grabbed a shield off of the floor, raising it up the catch the arrow in the leather. He took a few steps forward as the Bolton readied the next arrow, catching that one on the shield just as easily. Ygritte stood watching with a nasty smirk as a third arrow penetrated the shield before her soulmate fell on Ramsey, beating him mercilessly.

  He rained punch after punch down on the bastards face until it was an unrecognisable mess. He stopped though when he saw his sister watching.

  Ygritte wouldn't have stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put this one in Ygritte's P.O.V so that the writing is more original, you've already had this battle following Jon.


	7. King and Queen in the North

  The feasting hall was packed to bursting with free folk and northmen alike, the noise was astounding. That was, until they decided to moan. Jon was uncomfortable as he sat there in the Lord's seat. It felt wrong for him to be there with Ygritte and Sansa on either side. It should be Robb here, or his father. Both of them would have known how to deal with the raging opinions in the room. And now winter was here as his father had always promised, the white raven having been sent from the Citadel. 

   Ygritte must have felt his stress because she moved her hand under the table to gently squeeze his knee. He took comfort from her and from Ghost who was lying down behind him out of sight of the rest of the people in the hall. The direwolf had survived the Battle of Bastards as it had been called, he had returned to Jon's side later after everything had been dealt with and the Stark banner once more hung from the walls of Winterfell. The wolf's white fur was stained brown and red with blood and muck and Jon and Ygritte had spent the night washing him down- which the beast had rather enjoyed.

  They were hear now though, the adrenaline from the fighting and from the victory drained completely from him. What had he gotten himself into?

    Thankfully they soon got past the grump about the free folk being there and then it was convincing the men and women before him that the war was far from over. Because that was one of the reasons that he had gone on this conquest; to unite the North against the white walkers. 

  Then Lady Mormont stood. She was a strange child commanding a huge amount of respect. She was more like a grown woman trapped in a child's body than an actual child and people listened to her. That was one of many reasons why it came as a shock when she suggested that they should make him their king. He felt Ygritte look at him, she was probably just as surprised as him.

  "I don't care if he's a bastard. Ned Stark's blood runs through his veins. He's my king from this day till his last day!" 

  What was even more shocking was the Lords coming forward asking for forgiveness and kneeling before him. Naming him the White Wolf. Of course he forgave them, still not fully believing that this was really happening. Did he want to be a  _king_?

  Then they were all drawing their swords and standing. The call of "King in the North!" echoing off of the stone walls.

  He stood before them and Ygritte stood with him, winding her fingers through his.

***

  He had been king two weeks when he asked her to marry him. He knew that it wasn't a custom of her people but it seemed stupidly important to him. That was why it came as such a relief when she smiled that cheeky smile of hers and kissed him full on the mouth. She had said that she would.

  That was why they were standing their now in the Godswood below the wierwood tree with snow coating the land and more falling down on them and the people gathered around. Tormund, Brienne, Davos and Sansa all stood watching but Jon didn't worry about any of that. Ygritte was just too beautiful.

  Her red hair was tied in a braid with blue winter flowers, the colours contrasting and complimenting each other making both even more stunning. Her soft, pale face was perfect and he knew that he would never tier of looking into those gorgeous blue eyes. She was wearing  dress- one Sansa had made for them- and it was amazing, the embroidery was that of wolves and fire. He was a love struck fool and he couldn't fathom how he had ever doubted the power of the soulmates. As they stood there he could almost forget about everything in the world that they needed to fix, about everything they had been through and lost. None of it mattered right then.

  They said their vows then, the cold breeze biting at their bare skin giving her a rosy glow while whipping the snow gracefully around them and playing with Jon's long, loose hair. It didn't bother them though, their hands were warm where they held them. The gentle flame that passed through them as they touched each others marks warming them right to the centre of their beings.

  Jon kissed her when they were pronounced husband and wife, pulling her close in a tight embrace which she didn't hesitate to return. Her lips were even warmer than her hands and it was almost reluctantly that they pulled apart. When they did Jon couldn't help but chuckle; they had literally died for this moment. Not that it meant a thing anymore. Sure they had their scars but here they were, King and Queen of the North. 


End file.
